Page 3 of Hidden Vows (Love in Ashford Falls #3)

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JUDE

It’s funny; no matter what city I’m in, I always search for the bar that reminds me most of my father’s.

Always searching for that feeling of home I’ve only ever found at Murphy’s, my childhood home, or with Abbey.

That feeling I’ve only ever had back in Ashford Falls, Maryland.

The place I want to be more than anywhere—and the place I’ll never return to.

The Old Whitaker Tavern doesn’t have the hallmarks of an Irish pub like Murphy’s, but it has the hallmarks of a small-town bar—just like the rest of Harborview, Massachusetts.

The conversations going on around me show how well the people of this town know each other.

The group of men and women in the corner laughing with each other and talking about an upcoming wedding of one of the couples.

The old man at the end of the bar scowling at the empty glass in front of him.

The performer for the night packing up his guitar while talking to the woman who stood up front during his whole performance.

The bartender collecting empties the waiters gather and place on the bar while talking to customers closing out their tabs .

It all reminds me of evenings spent with my dad while we worked to close down Murphy’s. The camaraderie that can only be found with people you’ve known most of your life and feel comfortable with.

“Can I get you another one? Last call’s in five.” The bartender wipes at the now vacant spot next to me, offering a smile I imagine typically has men falling to their feet for her attention.

“I’m good.” I lift the pint to my lips, taking the last gulp before placing the empty glass on the bar. “Have a good night.” I tilt my head as a final parting, placing a twenty on the bar before heading out the door.

The sea air from the bay has me breathing deeply, and instead of heading straight for The Driftwood Inn, I find myself walking out to the empty dock.

During the day, this dock bustles with people, but at almost one in the morning it’s like a ghost town. The boats docked and slumbering for the night, waiting for the next day’s work to begin.

Staring out at the calm water, my mind wanders to the place it always does when I allow myself to sit in the stillness of a moment—to Abbey.

What’s she doing right now? Is she happy? Does she think of me as often as I think of her?

I can imagine her standing here with me, taking in the quiet calmness of the moment. The weight of her hand in mine feels so real, I stumble at the sudden breeze that rips through the air, bringing me back to the present.

I give myself a few more seconds to enjoy the evening air and the thought of Abbey by my side again before I turn and head back up the dock.

It’s late, but I’m not tired—unsurprisingly. Sleep and I haven’t been friends for a very long time. My options for where to go are limited…I have one option: the inn. Though, I do have a choice between my room and the library.

Hoping the front desk will be empty at this time of night, I open the door to the inn as quietly as I can.

While not technically a bed and breakfast, The Driftwood Inn gives off those vibes.

Not really what I’m looking for when I land in a new place and need to work on a project, but it’s not the end of the world either.

Luck is on my side tonight—the front desk is empty and the inn is silent.

Closing the door just as quietly as I opened it, I make the decision to stay up in my room once I get there.

It’s not that the people here aren’t friendly, because they most certainly are.

It’s just that I’ve never been a talkative person, and trying to feign interest at this time of night is the last thing I want to do.

I’m almost to the stairs when I hear the telltale sounds of footsteps on the wood floor behind me. I contemplate making a run for it, but know my luck isn’t normally that strong.

“Oh, hey. Did you need something?” A feminine voice sounds from behind me.

“No, I’m good. Checked in this morning,” I toss over my shoulder, hoping that’s enough for her to let me keep going.

“I’m sorry.” I hear the hesitation in her voice and it has me turning to face her.

“I just—I’m filling in for a friend and I’m honestly not sure what she’d do in a situation like this.

” Her nose scrunches in embarrassment, something most men would probably find endearing, though I don’t get the impression she’s trying to be.

I reach into my pocket, pulling out the key to my room. “Is this enough?” I show her the Driftwood Inn key chain attached to the room key.

Her eyes shift to a display rack next to the reception counter. A rack that displays key chains exactly like the one I’m showing her.

“It’s the tattoos, isn’t it?” I ask as I step toward the counter, reaching into my back pocket for my wallet.

I want to say I’m used to being judged on my appearance, and realistically, I am, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

“Uh, no.” She shakes her head, stepping behind the counter.

“I actually didn’t notice the tattoos until you held up the key.

” The woman gestures to my knuckles, seeing the letters and symbols across them—my constant reminder of everything I hold most dear.

“I try not to judge people on their appearance. I’m well aware most people often have it wrong. ”

She’s not looking at me as she taps away at the computer in front of her, allowing me a moment to really see her.

She’s beautiful—a natural elegance that pulls you in.

But it’s the guarded look in her eyes that has me captivated.

It’s a look I know well, one that stares back at me in the mirror every day.

“Sorry, I guess I’m used to being judged.” I slide my license across the counter, offering her a tight smile as an apology.

“It’s all right. I understand.” She lifts my license, glancing at it briefly before checking the computer.

I don’t know why I do it. I’m normally more than content to sit in the silence, but something has me opening my mouth. “How is it you know your way around the registration system, but you don’t know how to handle a guest coming through at odd hours of the night?”

She glances at me, passing my license back across the desk before answering. “I guess that’s a valid question. My best friend’s family owns the inn. I’ve sat with her quite a few times while she’s worked check-in, and I guess it stuck with me.”

“Seems odd to ask you to fill in for her instead of another staff member.” It’s not any of my business, but for some reason, I can’t walk away.

There’s this feeling churning in my gut. Like, if I walk away and go up to my room, something bad’s going to happen. But I have absolutely no idea what it could be.

“Ah.” Her gaze drops to the desk in front of her as she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Well, that goes back to people judging others. There was a wedding in town earlier this evening, and most people were invited.” She shrugs, the implications of what she’s left unsaid clear; she wasn’t invited.

Before I can say anything else, my phone starts to ring.

“Sorry. I have no idea who’d be calling me right now.” I reach into my pocket, silencing my phone.

“You better get it. It must be important if someone’s trying to reach you at this time of night.” She offers me a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, that guarded look held firmly in place.

This woman has me quite curious and I want to know her story.

It’s not interest in her that draws me in, but interest in the mysteries that surround her. It’s not uncommon—it’s the nature of my job, filling in the blanks to the histories around me.

My phone starts ringing again, pulling me from my wandering thoughts. I glance down at it, seeing my father’s face on the screen, and silence the call once more. He can wait one more minute.

“Uh, thanks for the chat…” I let my words trail off, not sure where to go with them.

“Melissa,” she says, extending her hand to mine. “Thanks for letting me verify you’re actually staying here, Jude.”

“Nice to meet you, Melissa. Hopefully you don’t have any other guests lurking around this evening.”

She laughs but before she can say anything else, my phone rings for a third time. “You better get that. Have a good evening.”

“Thanks.”

I silence my phone one more time, but turn and rush up the stairs to my room as quickly as possible while still being mindful of the sleeping guests in the inn.

It’s not until I’m behind the locked door of my room that I finally answer my phone.

“All right. I know it’s been a few days, and I’m sorry, but calling four times in a row is even a little much for you. Someone’s gotta be dying if it’s that urgent we talk,” I chuckle as I fall onto the bed.

It’s not silent on the other end of the phone; there’s noise in the background, but nothing distinct enough for me to know where he is. It’s his silence that has me sitting up at the foot of the bed.

“Dad? You know I was joking, right?”

It’s silent for a beat longer before a voice comes clear across the line, but it’s not my father’s voice I hear.

“Sorry, Jude. I—Jeez, you think I’d know how to handle making a call like this.” It’s a man’s voice, and the way he mutters that last part, I know it wasn’t meant for me.

There’s a shuffling sound and a muffled noise before everything stops, and the voice comes back, clear as day.

“Jude, it’s Gage Flynn. The manager of the bookstore next to Murphy’s found your dad unconscious at the bar this evening.

He’s been rushed to the hospital, and they believe he’s had a heart attack. ”

I know Gage continues talking because I hear his voice in my ear, but I have no idea what words are coming out of his mouth. It’s like I’m in a Charlie Brown movie and his teacher is talking to me—I hear the sound, but nothing makes sense .

My dad can’t be going to the hospital. He has to be all right. It’s been too long since I last saw him.

My attention is focused on the painting above the desk in front of me.

It’s a painting of a lighthouse at sunset.

It’s so realistic it almost doesn’t look like a painting, except the colors are so bright that everything practically pops off the canvas.

It’s truly a stunning piece of art, but what keeps drawing my focus is the inclusion of a man and a child walking hand in hand toward the lighthouse.

And even though I hear Gage still talking in my ear, all I can focus on is that image.

“Jude, are you still there?” The sharpness in how Gage says my name finally draws my gaze from the painting.

On shaky legs, I stand from the bed and move to the window overlooking the dock I was just standing on. “Sorry. Yeah, I’m here, but I-I missed most of what you said.”

“No. Don’t apologize.” Gage releases a deep breath, and I can almost imagine his entire body slumping at the realization he’s the one who has to share this news with me.

It’s been seventeen years since I’ve spoken to anyone in Ashford Falls—outside of my dad—but at one point in time, I thought of Gage as my brother, as one of my closest friends.

He may be two years younger than me, but thanks to our dads being best friends, we grew up with each other, and for a period of my life Gage knew me better than anyone—like I knew him.

Gage is one of the few people my dad openly talks to me about during our chats, so I know their relationship is just as close as it’s always been. Even knowing Gage has had to make these kinds of calls before due to his job, I know this one is difficult for him.

“They don’t know much at the moment, but he’s alive.”

I want to respond, but I don’t know the words to express the thoughts coursing through my brain. Ironic for a person in my line of work.

“I-I don’t know if you’re close. Your dad doesn’t really share much about what’s going on with you. I know you don’t like returning to town, but I thought this might be the exception…” Gage trails off, and I don’t know how to pick up the train of thought.

Gage isn’t wrong; I haven’t stepped foot in Ashford Falls in almost fifteen years. Though, there isn’t a soul on this earth who knows I was there fifteen years ago.

No, to everyone in that town, it’s been seventeen years since I’ve touched the soil of Ashford Falls, and I know there’s at least one person there who wants to make sure I never return. But I’m going to have to disappoint them.

There are a lot of choices in my life I already regret, and if I’m not there for my father in his time of need—if I’m not there to say goodbye if he’s leaving this world and I was given a chance—well, that’s not something I’ll ever be able to live with—no matter the consequences.

“I’m in a small town in Massachusetts. Harborview, I think.” I turn for my laptop set up on the desk and shut it down.

What sounds like a disbelieving puff of air releases from Gage through the phone, making me pause for a second before he speaks. “I know exactly where that is. You’re a lot closer than I thought you’d be.”

I’m tempted to ask how he knows where this little town is, but now isn’t the time for that. No matter what happens with my dad, I’ll be in Ashford Falls for a while. There’ll be plenty of time for me to satisfy my curiosity when I get there.

“I’m packing up now and then I’ll hit the road. You can get my number from my dad’s phone. Text me, and I’ll let you know when I’m close to town. ”

“They’ve brought him to the Silverleaf Medical Center. I’ll keep you updated on any changes, but they won’t release much to me since I’m not a blood relative.”

“Thanks, man. I’m glad you’re there with him.”

“Of course, that’s what family does.”

I stumble over my feet and collapse to the foot of the bed at those words. It shouldn’t surprise me that Gage still views us as brothers. That’s precisely the kind of person he is. No matter how long it’s been, he’ll always care for the people he holds dear.

“I gotta finish packing so I can hit the road. Thanks again.”

Without waiting for his response, I hang up and do exactly what I told him I would. I’ve checked out of the inn and am on my bike within ten minutes of hanging up.

I wish I could say my thoughts are entirely focused on my father, but that would be a lie.

My thoughts easily drift to Abbey and the high possibility that I’ll see her again.